


Aslan's Intervention

by supergreak



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis, White Collar
Genre: Closet That Literally Leads To Narnia, Comment Fic, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-26
Updated: 2011-03-26
Packaged: 2017-10-17 06:58:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/174131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supergreak/pseuds/supergreak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neal's closet is a portal to Narnia.  Peter's being nosy and falls through, and meets another Peter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aslan's Intervention

In the Season Finale of White Collar, we leave Neal artgasming in a warehouse full of art that Peter thought he stole. 

  


Meanwhile, Peter's at Neal's apartment, thinking. Okay, snooping. But Neal Caffrey was a felon, there was a load of stolen Nazi art floating around, and it had to be hidden _somewhere_. Not behind the panel where Sara had found the black box recording, not under the bed, not--oh, wow, Neal-- _not_ in the bedside drawer.

Peter made his way to the enormous closet and started rifling through the suits. He pushed through the first layer and...surprise, surprise, there was another layer of suits, and heavier coats. He wasn't finding any art, but considering the homeowner, there was probably a secret panel or compartment or door around here _somewhere_. He felt around the back of the closet until a panel gave way.

"Ha!" he muttered victoriously, shouldering his way through the mass of coats through the door and into--a stone hallway? He looked behind himself, but the door was gone.

He must be suffering hallucinations from Post Traumatic Stress, from the whole submarine, tied-up, gunfight debacle. Because by all sights and appearances, he was in a castle.

"Honestly, Edmund." A British-sounding voice came from down the hall. Peter spotted a nearby alcove and slipped inside. "You can't possibly expect the Dwarfs to agree to that treaty; they've held the territory for two hundred years. And you, there, hiding in the alcove. You aren't as sneaky as you think you are. Come out, now."

It would sound pretentious, but there was a sword at Peter's throat, which made it much more authoritative. He put his hands up slowly and stepped forward. The young man threatening him was tall, with light hair and he held the sword like he knew how to handle it. One even younger stood to his side, arms crossed. They were both dressed like extras on _Merlin_.

Peter said, "Front jacket pocket, there's my I.D. I don't mean any harm, I just stumbled through the wrong door and really would like to get home."

The younger one- Edmund, Peter supposed- looked quite a bit like Neal, with the dark hair and slight frame, and he lifted the wallet flawlessly, flipping it open.

"Peter Burke, F.B.I. Aw, hell, Pete, he's an American! Not from our time, either, by the looks of things."

'Pete' lowered the sword and secured it neatly. "Well, that puts a damper on things. But I suppose introductions are in order. I'm High King Peter, and welcome to Narnia." He proclaimed seriously. "Long story short, you've stumbled into this world from another, just like we did many years ago. Aslan only knows if and when you'll get back. Ed, give the poor man his wallet back. Peter Burke of America, this is my brother, King Edmund of Narnia."

Peter just kind of gaped there for a second. "You _have_ to be kidding me."

Edmund shook his head. "Sorry, but no. I've got to deal with the Minotaur delegation- they're bickering with the centaurs again, but I'm sure _His Royal Highness High King Peter of Narnia_ would gladly give you a tour. And could you be any more of a swot, Pete? The full title, really?" With that, he was down the hall, reading a rolled-up scroll as he walked.

 

 

Peter Pevensie shrugged and smiled amiably at the older man. "I'm not as big a prat as Ed would make me out to be, really. And the full title is about ten phrases long- I barely ever get to break it out." Burke just nodded mutely. "Anyway, how about that tour?"

Burke said, "Yeah, okay. But there's no way of getting me back right now?"

"Nope. But on the upside, from what we can tell, you don't lose any time here. You'll get back the same time as you left."

The F.B.I. agent visibly relaxed. "Well, that's a relief. I've got some time-sensitive business back home. But your brother said something about centaurs?"

The king nodded sagely. "Let me tell you about Narnia..."

Peter loved the army and the spies(Crows) and the police force(tiny, loud Mice) and the head Chef(an aging Badger who slapped the King's hand when he tried to steal a cookie).

They wandered out to the forest and Peter gaped at the view. It was...breathtaking, for lack of a better word. "Neal would love to paint this." He said to himself.

"Who's Neal?" The King asked. "Friend of yours?"

"He's my, well, sort of," He searched for the right words. "He's the man I spent five years tracking, arrested, put in jail for another five, escaped with three months to go, negotiated to help the FBI in exchange for house arrest, and have staked my entire career on helping. I know him better than most anyone, which is why it hurt so much when he betrayed me."

The King took all this in with a raised eyebrow, and asked, "How did he betray you?"

Peter explained about Neal's past, and Alex, and the music box, and the stolen Nazi art(the King's face darkened at the mention of this) and how he'd shot Adler and how very _personally_ Neal's actions hurt him. He got a little worked up in his righteous anger, and he could hear El's voice in his ear telling him to calm down.

King Peter nodded, and as they walked through the forest, trees moving to make a path, told Peter Burke another story of betrayal, of loss and mourning and sacrifice and redemption. They were both, er, obviously suffering from allergies to pollen or something by the time the story was done, because both FBI agents and High Kings are too manly to cry.

"How did you ever forgive him? I can't imagine it."

Peter Pevensie smiled. "Aslan forgave him; how could I not? He's learned more from his redemption than he ever could from condemnation. He's not called Edmund the Just for nothing, you know. Besides, he's my brother. No matter what stupid stunt he did, I still love him more. I'm not privy to your relationship with Neal, but you wouldn't care so much about his actions if you didn't love him, at least a little." They had reached a clearing, and a Lion stood majestically in the sun. "Hallo, Aslan. I assume you're here for Mr. Burke?"

The Lion let out a soft chuckle. "Yes, young Peter. His time has come to return home."

"I'll leave you to it, then." The King bowed low and left the clearing, whistling as he walked.

Peter Burke had never felt more on-trial than he did right now. Not any of the hundreds of times he'd testified before judges, not when he'd first met El's parents, not when he applied at the FBI. It felt like this mighty Lion he'd heard of in King Peter's stories knew all of him thoughts, all his past and future and possibilities. He felt like he needed to bow or something. He resisted the urge.

Aslan looked at him appraisingly. "Have you learned what you needed to here?"

Peter nodded jerkily.

"Then it's time for you to go." He roared, and between them appeared a trapdoor underneath the soil. Peter crouched down, testing the handle. When he looked back up, Aslan was gone.

 _Farewell, Sir_ he thought, and pulled the trapdoor up. The dim evening light illuminated a narrow staircase. Peter turned his cell phone back on, holding the light up as a beacon as he picked his way down the stairs. At the bottom, there was another small door. It was locked. Peter got his 'emergency pin' off his jacket's lining and picked the lock open. He pushed the door open and fell onto the floor of Neal's closet. He crawled back and felt the back panel- the door was already gone. The light popped on over his head.

"Suit?! What are you doing in Neal's closet? And why are you covered in dust?"

 

THE END.

**Author's Note:**

> This was comment fic written in one sitting between cleaning house. I expect there are mistakes, so please point them out.
> 
> In response to my one-liner about "extras on _Merlin_ , jtsbbsps_dk said "Oh, God, I can't even imagine who'd be able to convince Peter Burke to watch Merlin."  
> I said, "El and Moz watch it together- El for the pretty boys, Moz to talk about conspiracies and historical inaccuracies. Peter may have possibly watched a few minutes, but just while he was passing through the room.  
> And we totally believe that, Agent Burke."


End file.
